


silence

by KicktheMatt



Category: Dragalia Lost (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, i'm so sorry for hurting the boys, kinda hurt/comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 04:55:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20633426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KicktheMatt/pseuds/KicktheMatt
Summary: silence is deafeningwarning: this gets real sad





	silence

**Author's Note:**

> wOOOOO yeah so I finished chapter 10 and my brain immediately dropped this on my desk so. here's some big angst hours pals

Silence, Vixel decided, is the most terrifying sound of all.

Silence beat the sound of blades hitting flesh, of moans of pain, of bones cracking and shattering on the battlefield. Silence, Vixel realized, was the thing he feared most. The silence between them was deafening. One so attuned to sound would expect to be able to pick up on any other smaller sounds, but there were none to be noticed. All Vixel could think of was the overhanging truth. 

Fritz tightened the gloves he wore, looking down and away from Vixel, an uncharacteristically stoic look on his face. His lips were pursed, tight, uncertainty eating away at him. The knives, laying on the table beside him, seemed to emanate an unsettling aura.

Vixel found himself looking down at the floor, a deep breath leaving him, slowly. “When do you leave?” He asked, hesitantly. His voice was heavy, forcibly steadied. 

“In a bit. Prince told everyone to meet at the castle gate after sunrise.” Fritz reached for one of the knives, examining it, then sliding it into place in his sleeve. 

“Oh,” Vixel said, plainly. Defeated. He forced himself to look upwards, taking a few steps towards Fritz.

The dagger thrower looked over his shoulder, towards where Vixel stood. Fritz’s lips parted, but the breaths of his words died quickly before he even began. 

They both knew. They both understood.

Fritz could potentially die.

The course of the war had completely shifted. More and more tough enemies were popping up on the map. They needed taking care of-- they needed the best of the best.

It left a strange aura in the air: the hope and optimism, unmoving in its spot, that Fritz would come home alive and well, and the relentless power of the possibility that this could be the last time they saw each other alive.

Vixel’s arms rose, crossed slightly, as he anxiously tapped his foot to a rhythm of his own creation. He worried his lip between his teeth, unblinking as he stared at the carpet, willing himself to say something, _do something._

A nervous, deep breath left Fritz’s lips, as he turned to fully face Vixel. “Maestro?” He asked; a call, as to beckon. He made himself look towards the musician, the raw anxiety filling his chest. He seemed to be moments away from tears, a look that sent Vixel’s stomach tossing and churning.

It hurt to see Fritz in such a state.

Vixel quickly crossed the room, bringing Fritz into his arms. “It’s okay,” He whispered, wrapping one arm around Fritz’s shoulders, the other resting over it. Vixel’s gloved hand slowly rose to entangle itself in Fritz’s hair, soothingly stroking the strands in some attempt to calm him down.

“I’m sorry this is happening,” Fritz muttered, burying his face into Vixel’s neck. His arms wrapped around Vixel’s torso, pulling him closer than he was before. Fritz’s voice was hardly above a whisper, nearly impossible to hear. “I…”

“It’s fine, my love. Don’t apologize,” Vixel’s voice had the smallest shake to it. Not even he could hold himself together perfectly in the situation.

They stood, in each other’s arms, the deadly silence creeping from all directions. 

After a shaky moment, Fritz spoke again. “I’m gonna come home, Vix. I promise.”

“You best,” Vixel replied, turning to press a light kiss to the side of Fritz’s head. “Please do come back, Fritz. I’m going to miss you terribly.” He could feel the tears prodding the corners of his eyes. He blinked once, twice. The tears wouldn’t cease their threatens of falling. 

“Let’s make a deal,” Fritz said, pulling away from Vixel to look him in the eyes, Fritz’s own nearly on the verge of overflowing with tears. “When-- not _if, when_\-- I come back, let’s get married.” The small smile he held was genuine, one present in the adversary of reality. 

Vixel couldn’t stop the single chuckle that escaped him. The tears fell freely now, but Vixel shared the smile the Fritz wore. “Okay,” he replied, willing himself to not break down. “When you come back in _one piece_, I’ll marry you.”

Fritz’s hand rose to wipe the tears from Vixel’s cheeks, his own rolling slowly down his skin. “It’s a deal,” He said. “Be ready for when I come back, then.”

“I will be. I’ll see you coming from over the horizon, through this very window,” Vixel gestured towards the window, the smallest peaking of sunlight poking through the glass, sending strange shadows over the walls. “And I’ll come running for you.”

“Always the romantic,” Fritz jested, leaning forward, pressing his lips to Vixel’s salty cheek.

At the kiss, Vixel smiled, despite the fear and sorrow clawing away at his chest. 

And with a sudden pang of wrenching heartache, the smile dissipated. Vixel buried his face into Fritz’s shoulder, grabbing onto the back of his shirt for dear life, willing his body to not shake with the rampant sobs he wished to unfurl.

“I love you,” He mumbled, quietly. “I love you so much, Fritz.”

Vixel’s tears fell more and more. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing for them to slow down, stop. 

Fritz clung to Vixel with all the strength he could muster, holding him in the tightest embrace he could. “I love you too, Vixel. So much more than you could ever know,” He replied, his voice shaky. 

The traitorous sun crept further and further into the room, illuminating more and more in a peachy light. Fritz’s eyes followed the creeping light, a deep breath coursing through him.

“Vixel, sweetheart?” He asked, softly, reaching to cup Vixel’s cheek in his hand. “I’ll come back. I promise you.”

Vixel leaned into the touch, his eyes avoiding Fritz’s. He nodded, then looked up into the amber eyes he adored so much. He willed himself to remain as composed as he could. “Alright,” he said, pulling himself together again, clearing his throat before he continued. “Until then,” he began, reaching to straighten the lapels of Fritz’s suit jacket, “Stay sharp. Don’t miss." He took a deep breath, smoothing the fabric under his hands. "I don't intend to become a widower before I'm even married."

"When have I ever missed, sweetheart?"

"Never. Please do keep that streak going."

Fritz softly smiled, taking Vixel's face in his hands, leaning forwards and gently kissing him. Vixel's eyes fluttered closed, reveling in the bittersweetness of Fritz's lips.

They disconnected, reconnected, repeating the motions again and again and again. Neither wished for the incoming departure, the possibility of this being their last interactions before demise.

Fritz finally pulled away, taking in the sight of Vixel's face, his eyes, his lips and everything about him. "Don’t worry about me too much, alright? I’ll be okay.”

“You know me, Fritz. I won’t stop worrying until you’re back and I can hold you again.” Vixel reached up to Fritz’s cheek, wiping away at some of the purple runoff of Fritz’s tears, from where the drops came into contact with the diamonds upon his cheek.

“Didn’t hurt to ask,” He whispered, turning his head enough to press a small kiss to Vixel’s wrist. With a longing glance, Fritz took a step away, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve gotta get going soon.”

Vixel nodded, his hand falling to his side. “Safe travels, my love. Farewell.”

“Don’t say goodbye, okay? I’ll see you again. I’ll see you later, sweetheart.” Fritz had a smile on his face, but the most utter sorrow in his eyes.

“In that case...Until we meet again.”

And as Vixel watched Fritz leave, his heart sunk deeper, deeper. As he stood in the doorway, watching Fritz’s back as he walked through the Halidom’s halls, the tears flowed more than before. 

As soon as the sight of that signature yellow suit jacket disappeared around the corner, the prominent click of his heels following, the silence assaulted his senses again. 

Silence, broken only by the wrenched heart of one who will lose another they love.


End file.
